All the King's Men
by WieEineFataMorgana
Summary: AU: Alex, raised only as a tool for his country, struggles to determine truth from lies and to cling to his own broken morality after his "rescue" from MI6 by Yassen Gregorovich, a man who by all rights should want him dead.
1. Chapter 1

Alex sits facing the window, his back to the door, but he flinches slightly with every step Yassen takes, carefully monitoring the other man's movement. He knows he wouldn't have been able to track the other man this accurately before he came to be here and he's not sure if he is supposed to proud or disgusted with himself because of this new skill. It's confusing, hard to tell in the way Yassen makes most things. In the past year Alex has learned so much, changed so much. Things that he knew were completely true have been proven to be total lies and things he considered the most evil crimes are complimented, accepted as necessary.

"Alex," Yassen calls out softly, "come here."

As if pulled by an invisible force, Alex does. He is reluctant to stand with this man, sure that in some way he is conceding something precious that he'll never get back, but at the same time he has no choice. He is bound by a debt he is helpless to resist and a twisted sense of loyalty that sickens him.

Once upon a time Alex had a loving sister and a government he knew would do what was best, but that was all a lie. It was all a terrible, terrible lie. His father, his cold, distant father had been using him; he was only a tool to carry out the government's dirty work. Then Yassen rescued him, but that was a lie too. Now he lives here, as Yassen's tool, and he is no freer than he ever has been, but he chose this. He chose to be Yassen's and somehow that makes all the difference. This too is a lie, but he doesn't deserve freedom; wouldn't know what to do with it if he had it.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Yassen asks, absently ruffling Alex's hair.

"Are they worth that little to you?" Alex replies with the expected insolence, and when things are like this he can almost pretend that they are a family, that Yassen cares about him. The fantasy is nice, yet at the same time disgusting. He is a tool and tools do not need emotion and should not crave affection, only usefulness.

**I**

When he is five, he decides that he will call himself Alex. He has never had a name before, but he thinks that it is something everyone is supposed to have and it's easier to think of himself as something than as nothing at all. The name Alex is nothing special, but it reminds him of why he exists. His first teacher, Mrs. Doe, had a son named Alex, a little boy who was accidently murdered, shot by a terrorist on a subway. Alex will grow up and make sure that that can't happen to any other children.

He tells Mrs. Doe about his decision the next day and though she doesn't smile, he knows she is happy because instead of learning geography that afternoon, Alex learns how to hold knives.

**II**

Alex is seven, he thinks, although he has no real way of knowing, running laps in the family's gym while Instructor quizzes him on Spanish conjugations. He has to be perfect, anything less would be a disgrace, a failure whose punishment he is sure he cannot afford. He is Blunt's son and someday soon the safety of his nation will be resting on his shoulders. Any mistakes will mean people die.

Alex has never questioned why other children go to schools and play sports. He has never questioned why he doesn't live with parents like the children he pretends to be do. They are civilians he knows and thus completely different from him. It will be his job to make sure they can continue having these things and he is proud to be able to help them. He is proud, but sometimes he wishes he knew what it would be like to have worries no larger than kicking a football.

**III**

Today he is no longer Alex, today he is Benjamin Walker accompanying his dad on vacation from America. Alex's target is a Russian man who plans on bombing a school full of innocent children; Benjamin is simply sightseeing in London. Alex closes his eyes, calming himself before the start of the mission and reviews the details from the case file. Moments later Benjamin opens his eyes, smiling brightly.

"Dad, hurry up, it's almost lunch time and I'm starved!"

Alex's "father" a fully trained MI6 operative, looks down, "I'm coming. I'm coming. Calm down, Ben."

"You're always so slow, Dad!" Ben laughs, racing out of the bank before melting into the crowd.

The mission is successful. Ben celebrates a beautiful day with his dad by eating raspberry sherbet. He laughs at some joke before getting distracted by the melting ice cream leaving thin sticky red trails down his hands. On the inside though, Alex sees the blood of the man he killed slowly dripping down his hands and it is all he can do not to scream.

**IV**

Alex is 11 when he meets Jack Starbright, although he feels much older. She is as bright as her name implies and caring; open in a way he isn't sure can be real. He keeps waiting for her to stop smiling, stop laughing, stop trying to ruffle his hair. She doesn't.

Alex knows that she is only here because MI6 is worried about him. His psychologist is afraid that he doesn't have enough attachments. It's a ridiculous thing to worry about. He is a tool; attachments are irrelevant; it's like worrying that a hammer can no longer nail a plank because it has no friends. Even so, her presence is… nice. Regardless that he's way too old for it, she makes him dinner and offers to help him with his studies. On his day off she tries to convince him to do frivolous things, like visiting a park. He always refuses, but her cooking is not bad.

**V**

As the weeks pass, Alex becomes used to Jack, used to dinner being ready when he comes back from training, used to hot chocolate and a slice of cake waiting for him late at night after missions. He knows emotions are weakness and yet with Jack it is getting harder and harder not to return the affection she so carelessly dispenses.

It comes as a surprise then, when he stumbles across her file. It is laying casually on a coffee table in the common space between the dorms, although Jack herself appears to be out of the suite. Curious, Alex opens it, but he never makes it past the first page.

Jack is his sister, an illegitimate daughter of Blunt discovered too late to be made into a useful tool. The file states that her mother, an American, had recently died and Jack, after finding out about him, came to England to meet her father, Alan Blunt. She was 20 the first time Blunt actually met her, too old by more than 5 years to make into a tool. For some reason, this thought makes Alex happy, Jack – bright, happy, innocent Jack – should not be a tool.

He is not sure what to think about Jack now that he knows. Families are _supposed_ to love each other, although he is no longer so naïve as to think that is entirely true. But still the thought that maybe, even as a tool, he would be allowed to care about her, because sometimes even tools have families, is… more appealing than he would like to admit. Conflicted, he puts the file down, not caring that he hasn't read the rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

Sorry about the long gap, school is pretty intense right now, but hopefully you guys enjoyed the chapter. I'm not one hundred percent sure where I'm going with this story so if you have any suggestions I'd love to hear them or if you have thoughts on what you actually like in this chapter/ didn't think worked well I'd love to hear that too.

**VI**

"Yassen Gregorovich," Alex starts trying to read the man's face for some hint as to what he's thinking, knowing his only chance of success is if he can convince this man to help him.

"Alex," the other man responds neutrally.

Alex pauses for a final moment, carefully keeping the nervousness he feels off his face and refusing to let his muscles tense. "From our past interactions, you have made it clear that you do not wish to see me dead. This implies that there is some reason for which you wish me alive, a use you have for me," Alex pauses for a moment, forcing his mind away from the treason he has all but offered to commit.

"Perhaps," Yassen replies, tone coolly detached, "Yet you have known this for some time and never sought me out before. What is so important now that you are willing to betray your country?"

"They betrayed me first," Alex mutters, putting as much sullenness as he can in his tone, trying to gauge how much of what Yassen knows about him is accurate.

"That could be a reason," Yassen concedes, "But not your reason, in fact there really is only one reason you would be here."

"You know then. Will you help me, Yassen Gregorovich?"

"There is always a price, Alex, and my skills do not come cheaply."

Alex nods expecting this, "Anything, bar the slaughter of innocents."

"That's a dangerous promise to make, Alex."

"The price is fair, my life for her life. Whatever purpose you have for keeping me alive I will fulfill."

"Then we have a deal."

**VII**

By the time Alex turns 12 he has completed a total of 30 missions and killed 13 people. His success rate is phenomenally high. He should be proud to be able to serve his country in such a way. He should be proud, yet all he can really feel is numb. He is a tool and he is only fulfilling his use, what source here is there for pride? He knows he has grown too old to cling to the childish justifications of murder he used to believe. He is no hero.

He is no hero, but he is serving his country and so while he cannot feel pride over the skills he uses, he does feel a certain amount of contentment. He may be a murderer, little better than those he hunts, but he is saving people and that makes all the difference. For Queen and country, Alex is willing to do nearly anything, well Queen, country, and Jack really. After all if he cannot protect his own sister who can he protect?

Alex still hasn't mentioned to Jack that he read her file, but he thinks she knows anyway because occasionally if she isn't thinking about it she'll call him "little bro". It's so quintessentially Jack, that Alex can't help smiling slightly when she does it, even though he is a tool and should know better than to ever show emotion.

Jack, he thinks, is probably a large part of the reason he is able to relax when he is not completing missions. Even after a long day of training she always manages to make him smile. And when he can't quite muffle his nightmares she is polite enough to pretend she doesn't notice, although on those nights there will always be hot cocoa for breakfast.

So while Alex may not be proud of his skills – he doubts he can ever muster more than not outright disgusted for them – he is content and even fleetingly happy when he has time to spend with only Jack. It is a good life, better than he deserves.

**VIII**

"He's too attached to her," Blunt murmurs.

"Of course he is," Jones replies, "He is a child and she is his only form of emotional connection. He cannot help but to grow attached."

"He is hardly a child anymore, Tulip."

"That is not the point, Alan; he needs some kind of emotional tie to Britain. If we push him too far he will break and we will lose a valuable asset."

"Indeed."

"Do you have a solution in mind?"

"Perhaps."

**IX**

"Looks like you've got a new training mission, Alex," Jack calls out, "This actually looks pretty easy though," she smiles scanning the message, "They want to make sure that you 'have the ability to maintain a cover over an extended time-frame', so you're getting enrolled in a school. I'm to pose as your sister – which shouldn't be too hard – and you're going to be Alex Starbright an all-around, average student."

Alex looks over at Jack, unsure what to make of the new mission. On the outside it seems to be too easy, a waste of his talents, so there must be more to it than that. He dismisses this line of thought, it is superfluous information and a waste of his time, because in the end it doesn't really matter why they are assigning the mission. It only matters that he gets it done. Except he dislikes MI6 involving Jack in this if there really is something going on behind the scenes. "When do we leave?" He asks injecting excitement into his tone for Jack's benefit and to shake himself out of his useless thoughts.

Jack laughs and teases him about always being so serious, "Don't you get tired of missions all the time? You are the most responsible teenager I have ever met, Alex, do you even know how 'rebel against the man' and all those other things boys you're age are supposed to?"

"I was not aware immaturity was a rite of passage, Jack. Although if you listen to Father, I am already displaying an unbecoming amount of it by wasting time and attention on you that I could be devoting to my studies."

"You know I didn't mean it that way, Alex. You're not reeeaaalllly mad at me aaarrre you?" She turns her patented 'puppy dog eyes on him and Alex's irritation fades into a smile.

"Maybe I'll join a sports team at this school then, Jack, if it would make you feel better; I have it on very good authority that boys my age love football"

**X**

School is as mind numbingly dull as Alex had feared it might be. He is easily two or three levels above his classmates and after spending all of his life training the hours he wastes in school try his patience. It is boring and he would rather be doing a thousand other things that don't involve listening to his teachers lecture, but he is also well aware of his mission and so he takes notes and participates in class at least once per period. His teachers like him and he has done a good job winning over his classmates as well. In fact, he thinks he is fairly safe in saying the Jack Starbright is well on his way to having his first best friend a rather average boy named Tom Harris.

Tom is on the football team, which, true to his word, Alex managed to join, and for all his immaturity is a fairly tolerable companion. He seems to enjoy the fact that Alex struggles to master the finer points of football, especially because Alex shows him up in every class, but Tom's willingness to help makes up for any of the less than flattering teasing Alex must endure.

Overall things at Brooklands are not unpleasant. It is nice being able to watch the other children and all of their petty worries and carefree laughter. It has been so long since Alex has been able to spend time with innocents that he is half worried that they will be able to tell that there is something wrong with him, some darkness that they are protected from. They never do.

As the days turn into weeks, Alex begins to truly relax, gaining confidence in his new role, his new personality. He has never before had the luxury of spending so much time on frivolous pursuits like football practice and watching movies, going out to cafes and "hanging out" with the children in his class. Their innocence is hard for him to comprehend at times, but he is more determined than ever to protect it and he wonders if perhaps the reason for this new mission was to strengthen his resolve to serve his country before dismissing the thought as unimportant and deciding to merely enjoy this peaceful reprieve while it lasts.

**Author's Note:**

In terms of the opening scene, I tried to incorporate Russian manners/ addresses based on this:

"First name - your name. Second name - whose son you are. Last name - from which family you are. There are also several informal versions of the first name just like in English. All three names are used only in documents, or to introduce important person. First two names are used in situations like student talks to teacher, employee talks to boss or people who are not friends showing respect to each other(like "good day, mister Smith"). Other way around only the first name is used. Calling someone by only last name is used in army, prison, or when superior is unhappy. Calling someone by only second name - you are good acquaintances, but that person is older than you and older than 50 yo. Someone used to call you just by your first name, but suddenly started to address to you by your first and second name? You did something wrong, and he doesn't like you anymore.

Well, that's about 2/3 of it. This is very powerful palette with which people describe relations, emotions, attitude and social status."

Based on my limited knowledge of Russian (A two week intro course) "Gregorovich" would probably be Yassen's middle name: his father's name "Gregor" and the male modifier "ovich" if he were a girl it would be "Gregorovna" with the female modifier "ovna". So not that it matters hugely, but for this fic his full name will be Yassen Gregorovich Koznyshev after some Russian general on Wikipedia.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long wait. I had surgery last week and didn't have much of a chance to write. Note sure I really like this chapter, but I wanted to post something for you guys, so please let me know what you think.

**XI**

"Why?" Alex asks quietly, tone carefully flat.

"Why what, Alex?" Yassen returns, tone just as blank, although Alex can tell, by the faint twist of his lips, that the man is teasing him. He's not sure if he should feel proud that he is finally starting to be able to read his companion or depressed that he has been here long enough to start knowing things about him. He settles on a mix between the two emotions.

"Why am I here, why did you want me?"

"I think you know very well why you are here, Alex. I saved your Jack's life. It is simple, no? Unless you are regretting our bargain?

Alex wants to point out that they both know Yassen has not come close to actually answering his question, but he does not yet know the man well enough to guess how he would react. In the end Yassen is right; Alex is here because he agreed to be. Yassen is keeping Jack safe and so far has been treating him much better than he anticipated, so curious as he is, Alex will do nothing to jeopardize his current situation.

"I have no regrets Yassen Gregorovich, there was no other choice I am capable of making."

Yassen doesn't call him on the obvious lie the first half of his statement is. There are regrets, they both know it. A thousand ways Alex wishes his situation had been different, but in the end he would not change anything because the path he chose was the path that saved the greatest number of British citizens, and more importantly that saved Jack.

Yassen nods and beckons Alex over, wrapping his fingers in Alex's hair the way a father might to his son. Alex doesn't resist although he is confused by the human contact, instead, he stores the encounter away for future analysis.

**XII**

"Alex," his father begins, tone, as usual, devoid of any frivolous emotions, "Have you settled into your cover?"

"Yes, father," Alex responds, quickly smothering the annoyance Blunt's power play sparks. It is a waste of time to confirm what his surveillance team must have been reporting for weeks. The only purpose of such statements is to reaffirm to all present that Blunt is in charge, although this too is an unnecessary gesture.

"I have another mission for you, Egypt this time."

"As you will, father, although I am uncertain if I have fulfilled the parameters of my current assignment. They were somewhat ambiguous."

"Consider your current assignment a low priority long term cover. Since you have settled in so well we will be sending you on more missions in and out of the country, between them you are to maintain your current cover."

"Yes father," Alex replies, wondering not for the first time why his father treats him so differently from other agents, forcing him to ask specifically for any scrap of information on his current assignments rather than freely giving it. "However, I am still uncertain what I am to accomplish with this cover. Knowing may help ensure that I am able to satisfactorily accomplish your aim."

"Are you questioning me, boy?"

"No, father, of course not," Alex replies keeping his voice carefully blank and exiling all the negative emotions that begin to cloud his mind.

"It is enough for now that I deem this cover important, that is all you need to know."

"Yes, father, I apologize for my insubordinate questions." If Blunt hears the sarcastic undertones that Alex cannot quite keep out of his voice while giving Blunt the response he expects, he makes no sign of showing it.

**XIII**

Egypt is brutal. The sun is too bright, the air too hot, too dry. Alex isn't sure if he can think of a worse feeling than sand and blood coating his hands in a too warm, too sticky, too grainy mixture that doesn't seem to wash off even after his third cold shower. He hates this part of his job, the killing, perhaps more than he can hate anything else, even the monsters he slays for his country. He hates the killing, but knows that someone has to do it. If he left these men alone they would destroy Britain, destroy Jack, and Tom, and all the other children and families that Alex has sworn to protect. So he kills them. It is that simple and yet somehow it isn't, because killing will never be simple and never be the "right thing to do". Jack has taught him much about morality since she moved in and somehow even before that there was a part of him that knew it was wrong, knew he wasn't meant to be a killer.

Alex quashes these thoughts. They get him nowhere and he has already made up his mind, he is a tool for his country and while he may have been happier as something else, something peaceful and civilian, he has never had that choice; his happiness is not worth letting his country down when they need him the most. He packs his bag methodically, cleaning his knives one more time before placing them in the case which hides their ceramic shapes so he can get through airport security.

With one last glance around the room, Alex turns to leave and that's when things begin to go downhill. His "father," an agent assigned to some sort of petty espionage that Alex hasn't bothered to remember, meets him at the door, two Egyptian police officers escorting him toward the hotel room.

"Father?" He asks, trying to inject just the right amount of fear and uncertainty into his voice, widening his contact-colored black eyes just a little. "What's happening, father?"

"Jason, it's alright, I'm fine I just had a little misunderstanding. Go find your mother in the lobby, she's probably beside herself with worry, wondering where you are."

Not hesitating, Alex runs, recognizing the code phrase in the other agent's words: _get out now_. The lobby is thankfully bustling with people and Alex is able to easily blend into the crowd, feeling only momentary remorse for the agent he is leaving behind. It is an unfortunate loss, but the mission is more important.

As Alex walks outside the hotel, barely resisting the urge to run, the sun assaults him, just as oppressively hot as he remembers. He wanders slowly, pulling a cheap digital camera out of his backpack and taking pictures of anything he finds even vaguely interesting, acutely feeling every second that passes. After what seems forever between the beating sun and his own growing tension, he reaches the alley where their drop point is supposed to be. There's no one there, but that in and of itself does not raise Alex's suspicions, after all their contact is just as aware of the danger of being caught as Alex himself is and will probably not stop by to check this spot for hours, possibly even days. Still he does feel some unease as he exchanges a photograph of the man he has killed for the flash drive containing his ex-partner's notes. Nothing appears to be amiss, but he still can't shake the sense that something is off. Which is probably why he isn't entirely surprised when he sees a bullet flying toward him. He is, however, surprised when the next shot ends with the body of his attacker falling to the ground and Scorpia's top assassin standing at the entrance to the alley.

"You really ought to be more careful, Alex; bullets can kill," the man says blandly before continuing on his way as though he has merely paused for a moment to admire the dingy alley rather than just killed a man and saved Alex's life.

Alex doesn't follow and it is only partially because the first bullet has managed to knick his side and slow him down.

**XIV**

"Agent Blunt," Mrs. Jones says, "I am proud of you. You did the right thing, making sure the mission was successful and . . . I am sorry for the loss of your partner."

Alex nods, biting his tongue to keep from pointing out that she should not be proud of him, that he has let his partner die. But Mrs. Jones does not deserve that kind of worry, the kind that results when one thinks their agent might be breaking, so instead he nods and thanks her.

"However, I do have one question. The man in the alley, the one you say saved you, did you know him?"

The question is not odd, in fact Alex is surprised Mrs. Jones has waited so long to ask it, yet something about her tone and wording puts him on edge. She seems less interested in who he is than she is in whether _Alex_ knows who he is. The distinction is subtle, but Alex sense that there has to be some importance to it almost as though she wants to reassure herself that he cannot know the man who saved him. It puts him on edge though he tries to calm himself because after all, this is Mrs. Jones the only person, besides Jack of course, who he knows sees him as anything more than just a tool. "I had never seen him before," Alex answers truthfully, "Should I have known him?"

"No. That will be all, Alex. I'll call Jack and tell her to expect you for dinner at the house in Chelsea unless you feel you are too injured to return today."

"Thank you for your concern ma'am, but the bullet only grazed my side; I am perfectly capable of returning to my mission."

**XV**

The juxtaposition between Egypt and his cover in Chelsea is disconcerting. In the past he has always been able come down slowly from the adrenaline high of a mission, pushing out all of his extra tension in the training room. Now he doesn't have that luxury and transitioning from a state of mission paranoia into a worry-free teenager is harder than he expects. Especially because he has to hide the wound in his side.

He manages, but that is more a testament to Jack's skill at calming him down than he would like to admit or to examine too closely.

**AN:** I'm really happy that so many people have favorited / are following this story, so thank you to all of you people, I'm glad you're enjoying reading my work. I would be really happy though if more people left me a review (blatant hint). I'm really not sure where I want to go with this story and would appreciate your suggestions.


	4. Chapter 4

**XVI**

It is almost disconcertingly easy, Alex finds, to get lost in training. Yassen Gregorovich has a beautiful range and an even more gorgeous gym and Alex uses them both without guilt whenever the man leaves the house. Right now in fact he is practicing shooting.

Alex takes one final look at his targets before jumping off the ledge and throwing himself into a double front flip, firing three shots at the apex of his first flip. He lands, with perhaps less grace than he intended, but also without injuring himself. As he walks closer to the targets he has set up, he notices that only one of his shots has hit within the center ring. It is a minor disappointment, but he is having too much fun being able to practice with the knowledge that what he is doing won't lead to anyone's death, except maybe his own if he is careless, to care too much.

He sets up again. The thrill of jumping and flipping is just as great the second time and Alex quickly loses himself in the sensation of being airborne, in the challenge of figuring out what his trajectory is and where he has to aim to hit the target as he comes through the first somersault. As he fires: once, twice, three times, he gives in to the exhilaration bubbling up from his stomach and grins because there is no reason to be ashamed of his skills if they are only used to pierce the brightly colored concentric rings in front of him. This time he sticks the landing.

It is a testament to how relaxed he is that when he hears Yassen Gregorvich's light clapping from the doorway of the gym all he does is spin around guns aimed, rather than actually firing.

"That was quite impressive, Alex. Although perhaps in the future, it might benefit you to place some sort of matting on the ground in case you fall," Yassen remarks, his voice carrying an undercurrent of some emotion Alex cannot identify before he simply turns around and walks away.

A mat, Alex's mind latches on to the idea because he would rather not ponder the pride Yassen Gregorovich's compliment sparks in him, just as he would rather not ponder what it means that he is more relaxed now, while under the care of someone he was brought up to kill, than he can ever remember being in MI6. A mat, Alex thinks, would be a very logical addition to this part of the practice room.

**XVII**

The doorbell rings startling Alex and he manages, barely, to stop his hand from drawing his gun, before getting up to answer it. His side still aches from the bullet wound, but he forces his body to ignore it after all Alex Starbright has spent a week in the United States for the funeral of a Damon Kregg, a close friend he made while living with Jack in New York, he has no reason to be sore.

When he gets to the door, an act that takes more self-control than he is willing to admit, he is surprised to find Tom on the other side.

" Tom, what are you doing here?" Alex asks keeping his tone light and letting through only part of the confusion he feels.

"I, uh, wanted to make sure you were alright, Alex. You left pretty suddenly and your cell phone wasn't receiving calls, so me and, uh, a couple of the guys got worried, you know? Right so I stopped a couple of days ago and your sister, she uh, said that you had flown alone back to the States for a funeral. So I wanted to drop off some of the notes you missed and make sure you were alright. It must be rough losing your best friend, so I wanted to make sure you had someone if you, you know, wanted to talk about it or something. So yeah."

"Thanks, Tom, I appreciate it, but I'm fine. Do you, um, want to come in to drop off the notes and, uh, grab a bite or something?" He hopes Tom will decline because he doesn't know how much longer he can pretend to be this cheerful; even after the stiches it feels like something is stabbing his side, red and hot.

But luck or fate is not on his side as Tom nods, smiling enthusiastically, "That sounds great. I'm so glad you're okay, everyone was so worried when you just left. Your sister said you were devastated when you got the call and Erik thought you might have gotten depression or something, but…"

Tom's rambling is not nearly as annoying as Alex thinks it probably ought to be, truthfully, he almost finds the other boy's obvious concern to be somewhat… endearing. He has read about friends and taken lessons on how to subtly form and end friendships while on a missions, but it is more pleasant than he expected to have someone consider him to be a friend when he is not, in fact, actively manipulating them.

"So what was it I missed in history again?" Alex interrupts.

**XVIII**

"He is an aesthetically attractive child, Mrs. Jones. It would only be logical to make use of that fact," Mr. Blunt's voice, as ever is perfectly emotionless.

"Exactly, he _is_ a beautiful child, practically a story-book angel, and if you send him on this type of mission, people are going to notice that. These type of people like to break innocent things, they like to own them, corrupt them, and twist them into hollow shells of what they used to be. You cannot seriously tell me you want to send a twelve year-old child on seduction missions in the same breath as assuring me it is only for the greater good of this country."

"Mrs. Jones, calm yourself, he is old enough and has trained for long enough that I am sure he is more than capable of dealing with anything these missions throw at him. He will not look this innocent forever, if we do not make use of his unique assets now, they will disappear and we will have to find more dangerous, costly methods of obtaining the same type of information."

"Alan, you are being illogical right now, letting your emotions show through and actively seeking to damage not only an innocent child – you cannot hold the son accountable for the sins of his parents, it is unreasonable, even for you – and an agent who has one of the highest success rates in all of MI6. What you are proposing in the name of logic, strikes me very much like vengeance and in such a way that will definitely ruin his mind, if not his body. Please tell me you won't actually follow through with this."

"Sometimes, Tulip, I wonder if you are placing loyalty in the child that ought to be elsewhere."

"I did have loyalty to his parents, you know that already, but I am more loyal to you, I would never be the one to inform Alex that you are not his father. I am your tool to wield as you see fit, but please think about what I said; don't destroy so useful a tool over a petty grudge that died almost twelve years ago."

**XIX**

Alex wakes up, hand over his mouth to stifle a scream. His heart rate is abnormally high and he is disoriented. His dream had been an odd one, about a boy waving to an airplane. The child had seemed so happy to see the plane get into the air, but right after the wheels left the tarmac, the plane exploded and the child was flung onto the ground. The man who had been holding him was shot and all around the child people were shouting, "Quick someone grab the Rider brat!"

As far as dreams go it is an odd one, but not nearly frightening enough to cause him to react like he is. In fact, as the disorientation starts to fade, Alex wonders what had been so terrifying, he didn't even feature in the dream and he has never been afraid of airplanes, or guns for that matter – merely the people who wield them.

Dismissing the dream, Alex glances at the clock and realizing it was only a couple hours after midnight, he rolls over and goes back to sleep, exchanging his odd nightmare for an even odder dream.

_The floor around Alex is tiled, white and black linoleum like something out of _Alice in Wonderland_ and as he wanders through the room he sees that while the walls tilt at wild angles there are no doors. There is, however, a small window at the apex of the large domed ceiling and through this small window, a sideways moon shines, seeming unnaturally bright, for all that it is merely a crescent. Odder still, the moon seems to only shine in a small beam and where it stops against a wall there is a mirror, huge and ornate, it seems to invite Alex over. _

_As he walks to the mirror, Alex vaguely notes that though he is wearing shoes, his footsteps are completely silent. He also notes, with more annoyance, that physics does not seem to have the same rules in this room as it ought, he has walked twice the distance to the mirror, he is somehow absolutely sure of this, and yet he seems no closer to reaching it than when he first entered the room._

_"You know, some people say that mirrors allow people to glimpse into their own souls, that mirrors reveal who people truly are," a small voice calls out._

_Alex turns to glance behind himself, half expecting to see a white rabbit. Instead, he sees a little boy who is perhaps five or six years old and looks uncannily like him. "Who are you?" Alex asks, but his voice, like his footsteps seems to have been swallowed up by the silence of the room, by the white and black tiles or the smile of the sideways moon._

_"Who am I?" the child repeats, perhaps having read Alex's lips, "Why I am you of course, who else could I be? The more important question, silly, is who are you?" _

_Alex wants to answer, but finds that now the words die before they even reach his lips. _

_"I don't think you know, that's why you can't come to the mirror. Alice's mirror only shows people what they already know, everything else they have to find out on their own. It's important though, because if you don't know who you are, how can you tell who anyone else around you is? You should try really hard to figure it out."_

In the morning Alex remembers very little of either of his dreams; there was an exploded plane and a mirror and a question and perhaps they were all important, but real life is more pressing than whatever his brain decided to dump into his dreams and so that is what he focuses on.

**XX**

"Hey, Alex, where are you going? We have football practice tonight, remember?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Tom, I managed to fall and bruise my ribs while I was in the States and it actually hurts pretty badly; I was planning on talking to the coach about letting me skip practice so I could catch up on some of the work I missed, you know?"

"Yeah man, it must be rough having missed a whole week of school, I can talk to the coach for you if you just want to go home, he's pretty cool so I'm sure he'll understand."

"Really? You're a life saver, Tom. Ever since James died it's been a little difficult you know, everything just feels so different and I don't know. I think I probably just need a little more time to sort everything out and then with my bruised ribs and the make-up work…" The lies come more easily than Alex expects and for a moment he actually does believe that he is Alex Starbright and his best friend really has just died. It is disconcerting.

"No problem, man. After all, what are best friends for?"

Alex smiles, hiding his shock at Tom's, probably, fairly normal declaration and nods his head. He is not sure if the other boy is being serious or whether this sort of declaration is normal for Tom. He isn't sure if he should care, after all Alex is an agent, a tool for his country, and thus has no need nor use for friends, but at the same time Alex Starbright is an ordinary boy, who may have just made his first best friend. Alex is only using the other boy as a way to build a better cover, lying to him with every breath he takes and yet Alex Starbright is being completely honest, confiding all of his hopes and dreams and any lies he tells are accidents or else petty mundane white lies to make Tom feel better. Alex is conflicted, torn in half down the middle between what is true and what is merely an illusion, between who he is and who he pretends to be and that dividing line grows more and more difficult to determine as the two halves begin to flip-flop.

He has never had this trouble before and he begins to wonder why his father has assigned him a mission with his own name as a cover, if he knew that this was going to happen. He thinks, briefly, unintentionally, about his dream; about the little boy and the mirror and wonders: "Who am I really?"

**A/N:** Sorry about the long delay, exams and things were pretty killer and getting stuff ready for work this summer. Anyway this chapter is kind of odd, actually it's very odd, but I figured at this point I should really just put something out for you guys. Hopefully you liked it or disliked it enough to review (hint hint) and tell me why


	5. Chapter 5

**XXI**

"Alex," Yassen Gregorovich's voice is, as ever, unreadable, "Come here for a moment."

Alex picks his way carefully across the small hotel room avoiding the lone bed and small nightstand, and with more difficulty, Yassen Gregorivich's tools spread across the ground. The room itself is very dim, a reflection of both its cheap nature and Yassen Gregorovich's experience. It is midafternoon, but there are no windows to light the room and the lone floor lamp is nowhere near up to the task of filling the void. Yassen Gregorovich, the man he has in essence sold his life to – and isn't that a terrifying thought – is waiting patiently by the door. It seems, at least in Alex's experience, that Yassen is always patient, or cool, or collected and if circumstances were different, he might have even been someone Alex would consider a role model. Circumstances as they are, however, Alex merely sits down at Yassen's feet, legs tucked underneath him and head bent down slightly.

"You have promised me your life, little Alex." The diminutive is probably aimed to unsettle him, a subtle gesture to remind him who has the power in this relationship. It is no less effective for the fact that he knows its purpose, but he cannot help but think it unnecessary; he was the one who suggested their bargain of course he knows the parameters. "As such you realize that the only way you will ever leave me alive is if I let you go?"

Again, an unnecessary reminder, but a good way of keeping him in his place. Of course Alex knows he will never leave this man, but it is something he would rather not think about and he wonders suddenly if Yassen Gregorovich knows this and for that reason chose to bring it up. And he wonders if that is what every day of his new life will be, these subtle jabs and unnecessary power plays. He wonders too, if it would matter, they are just words aimed at a mask which is already cracked down the center by the dual betrayal of his government and of emotions that he never realized he had. The real Alex lies somewhere in the back of his mind, pressed paper thin between a thousand masks, hidden, perhaps even safe, from Yassen Gregorovich, the world, and Alex himself. So instead of asking why Yassen is being redundant, Alex merely puts on the mask of a subordinate, bows his head slightly lower, and says, "Yes sir."

Mask still firmly in place, he asks no questions as Yassen Gregorovich injects a liquid into his arm, does not flinch as the solution spreads out through his blood, nor when his new master explains that in the solution are thousands of nano-tracking chips and that for the next five years they will stay in his body signaling to anyone who cares exactly where he is. He is Yassen Gregorovich's tool and as such there is nothing of him that does not also belong to the man standing in front of him. A small voice in his head tries to argue that there is something about who he is that can never be controlled, but this voice, probably nothing more than a remnant of several older masks, is not something that will help him accomplish his current objective and so he ignores it.

**XXII**

Jack is home already by the time Alex has finished biking back from Brooklands Academy. She seems to be enjoying their new mission, and has remarked happily several times that she is pleased to see Alex so relaxed. He wonders, briefly, as she hugs him if she has realized that he is basing his new personality off of her. On most missions –every one that he has completed before – he is given some form of dossier which includes a cover, who he is supposed to be. For this mission, his father merely told him a name and that he was to be a civilian. Everything else he has had to figure out on his own, drawing from older missions and from interactions with the people around him, but most especially from Jack. In a way this makes him feel much more attached to this persona, identify with it more, than any other he has ever donned. If he were a civilian this is who he would like to be: Alex Starbright.

He isn't of course; a civilian that is. He is an agent. He is only pretending to be Alex Starbright. Some days he wonders if Jack realizes that he is now pretending even when inside their home; he wonders if he does. It is so easy to fall into this persona that shares his name, that Alex sometimes smiles or laughs now with jack and has to wonder afterward if he is lying.

**XIII**

Alex doesn't see Yassen Gregorovich again until August. He is in Russia this time, but for all that, he is no less surprised to run into the man again.

The mission itself is nothing particularly difficult, in fact if it had taken place in a country farther from Scorpia's last verified base of operations, Alex doubts he would have been sent at all. As things are he arrives at the airport with papers documenting him as Feliks Gleb, a Russian citizen who moved to America with his mother nine years ago after she went through a messy divorce. He has short red hair and sleek black corrective lenses and for all that his clothes are designer, he looks as if he is not quite comfortable. As far as covers go, Feliks is a pretty simple one to adapt to. What is less easy to adapt to is running, nearly literally, into Yassen Gregorovich as he tries to find baggage.

The airport is quite busy, clogged with the normal press of businessmen and women as well as the last of the tourists trying to get one final vacation in before the end of the summer. Russia is not the most welcoming country, but no one can argue that she has beautiful cities and a rich history. Feliks, guesses he probably fits into the latter category of airport patrons, although his reason for visiting is less for pleasure and more for necessity. His mother has gotten ill and she begged him to at least try to reconcile with his father before she dies, he isn't looking forward to the conversations ahead, but he can't deny his mother anything at the moment so he has promised to let his dad try to make up for the last 12 years of neglect by spending a week with him.

The press of people all around him, pushing down the tight hallways, crowding into the gaudy airport stores is somewhat overwhelming. He had forgotten how much he dislikes airports, but the crush of people is quickly reminding him as he is carried along toward the baggage claim. Later he will blame the crowds, or perhaps the signs and loud conversations –in the Russian he hasn't used in years –for why he collides into another traveler with enough force to send him to the cold linoleum floor; at the moment he is too embarrassed to assign motives to anything.

The man, dressed in a smart black business suit, looks down at him and smiles slightly. Feliks knows he has never seen this man before in his life, but something, perhaps in the smile, unnerves him and he wants to get as far away from this man as he can. After all if he doesn't hurry, his father won't wait for him and then he will have to try to find a cab to take him through the city and back to his house.

"Pardon me," Feliks says, failing to mask his terror, "I am truly sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going." By this point he has already picked up his bags and is working on imbedding himself safely within the flow of people so he can get his luggage and leave the airport. It comes as a surprise then, a remarkably unpleasant one, when the other man grabs his wrist, stopping his escape.

"Feliks, I believe we need to talk."

"How do you know my name? I've never met you before, sir," by this point Feliks is having trouble controlling the panic that claws up his gut. There are very few good reasons for a complete stranger to recognize his name and face, and fewer still in Russia, that he wants to contemplate.

"Look, sir, whatever my father has promised you about me I'm no good to repay his debts. My mother lives in the United States and has the resources to find me. No matter what my father has said he doesn't have the legal authority to give me to anyone."

The man actually laughs at this and Feliks is dismayed to see that not only has his speech not worked, but while he was distracted the stranger has moved them down a secluded hallway between gates.

"Oh Alex, enough with the pretenses. I know exactly who you are and why you are here."

"Sir, I don't know what you are talking about, my name is Feliks and I am here to visit my father."

"Your, father? I knew your father, Alex. Your father would be horrified to see what you are doing with your life. He loved you and never wanted this life for you."

"I'm sorry sir; I don't know you, and whatever you think you know about my father, you are mistaken. He cares very little for me as a person, that's one of the reasons my mother left," Feliks lets some of the anger he hold toward his father show, and wonders why the feeling underneath the anger is still hurt. This man is a creepy stranger who knows nothing about his life so why do his accusations still hurt?

The man, perhaps reading his thoughts, looks altogether unimpressed with Feliks's performance thus far and somehow he knows that it will be a while before he gets the image of this disappointed stranger framed by the dark, bleak, Russian hallway out of his mind.

"A word of advice then," the stranger proposes, "Be wary of scorpions in city cabs and subways; I would be most disappointed if you were to get stung, _Feliks_."

And then he is gone and Feliks is left to wonder why that warning fills him with so much dread and if the encounter ever really happened in the first place. The man was obviously confusing him with someone else, or flat out crazy. Even so, Feliks does not once ride a cab or subway train while in Russia.

The rest of the mission is fairly simple, Alex completes it in under a week and is well on his way back to Britain before he has time to contemplate what exactly his strange encounter with Yassen Gregorovich means.

**XXIV**

As the weeks pass, Alex Starbright grows more and more confident in his new neighborhood, and if there are large patches of time he can't always account for every so many weeks, well it's probably a side effect of the cancer treatment he is receiving, the same treatment that keeps him out school for such long periods of time every so many weeks. He hasn't mentioned the black outs to Jack, doesn't want to worry, after all, it's stressful enough for her having to deal with the fact her little brother might not live to reach 20 and they don't bother him. Much.

In school his teachers always look at him with sympathy and he isn't sure if he should be annoyed or happy that they care. At first he was enamored with the attention, all of them remarking how well he looked and that truly they wouldn't have even suspected he was sick if he hadn't shown them the doctor's notes himself. Yet this same attention turns disapproving when they start questioning whether he should still be on the football team or allowed to participate in Karate when he is so fragile right now. The comments which before were almost welcomed, start to grate, the attention stifling rather than endearing, and he almost wishes they didn't know. That however is not an option because if they didn't know he would have to come up with some form of excuse for why he has missed so many days of school.

At home things are even more awkward. Jack constantly asks him questions like, "are you okay, Alex?" or "Alex don't lose yourself because of all this, okay?" The questions, odd as they are for Jack, are infinitely better than the looks she gives him when she doesn't think he's watching. She stares as if he were a stranger and more and more often as if somehow he has already died and she has been left only with a ghost of who he used to be. She doesn't laugh now as much as she used to and when they both do, she sometimes stops suddenly and asks if he is laughing because he finds what they are talking about funny or if he merely thinks _she_ wants him to find it funny. To say things are awkward is an understatement; he loves her, but some days he wishes he lived with someone else instead, someone like Tom who didn't seem to think that he was somehow going to die at any instant.

At night he dreams of mirrors and black and white checkered tiles and children who know more than any child should, but always by the morning he dismisses these dreams as odd nightmares that mean nothing.

**XXV**

"I don't know how you did it, but congratulations. You finally broke Alex Blunt."

"Miss Starbright, please get a hold of yourself. Agent Blunt is in perfectly usable condition; from what our monitors show us, he is performing admirably in all the missions we have assigned him, most especially his deep cover in London. If that is all –"

"You don't understand Mrs. Jones, Alex has no idea who he is anymore. All those years you spent raising a child and turning him into a weapon, good job, they worked. The kid switches from mask to mask, like a normal person changing clothes, but that's all he knows. He has forgotten who lies under the mask, I'm not even sure there is anything under the mask anymore. Sure he switches each mask to suit the situation he is faced with, but as an agent, not being able to act outside his cover cannot be considered an advantage."

"Miss Starbright, calm down –"

"Calm down, how can I calm down? He doesn't even recognize me. It used to be, he would come back from missions and then he could just be Alex again, for a few days at least. Alex who was a boy, not much of one, given that he was always training or running missions, but he was at least a person. A person who had opinions, things that he like and disliked. Things were always a little tenuous after he returned from missions because he is so good at what he does that he would need time to shed the mask he came back wearing so he could just be Alex again. But you took that from him, that one little bit that was his. Now he has to come back and be Alex, but Alex isn't who he used to be, Alex is some stupid brat with cancer, who plays football. Cancer! He thought of that I bet, a good excuse for all those missions you run him on, but living as someone else all the time has taken its toll and now he thinks he really is Alex Strabright and he won't fail a mission, not that kid, so anything that doesn't fit he just ignores or forgets and somehow along the way his old self must have gotten in the way of completing the mission, because two Alex's would be redundant and he forgot it or somehow it got buried under all the other more useful masks you made sure his brain was stuffed with. So basically what I'm saying is you've killed that child and if you want to regain the agent you've lost it's going to take a lot of work."

A/N: So I'm not really sure I'm that happy with this chapter, but it's done. I would love to hear what you guys have to think. Please Review


	6. Chapter 6

**XXVI**

Alex only ever tries to escape from Yassen Gregorovich once. After that, the incident is never mentioned again. Alex has learned his lesson.

Yassen Gregorovich bandages Alex's wrists with clinical precision, but the way he wraps his arms around Alex while he does so and the glare he sends Alex's way speak volumes. Alex is Yassen Gregorovich's possession and this ill-planned escape attempt has angered him. It is neither of these facts, though, that truly stop Alex from trying to take his life again. Instead it is the terse reminder that he has promised this man his life in return for Jack's. Yassen Gregorivich is not quite cruel enough to openly threaten Jack while Alex lies half-conscious, but then again, Alex isn't stupid enough to miss the subtle message: if he tries to exit their bargain before Yassen Gregorovich is ready to let him go, Jack will be killed.

**XXVII**

_"You're broken, you know."_

_Tonight, the boy's head looks like a monster's. Red paint over ceramic, with angry eyes, horns, and a gaping mouth, like some sort of Buddhist devil, Alex thinks and then isn't sure why he considers this detail relevant. He stares at the boy –the monster? – for another moment, unsure how to respond and suddenly its face has changed. In place of the demon's mask, sits white porcelain with a cut out frown: theatre's symbol of tragedy._

_"It's, not your fault, really. You've heard these words a million times already, 'you're not to blame' and you want to believe them, don't you? But deep down, you know those words are lies, after all, if you hadn't loved them, if you hadn't handed over the power to control yourself to them, they could never have broken you. That's your tragic flaw, you know."_

_The boy's face has changed again, this time to a crayon-colored tiger mask. The cartoon image covering only the top half of his face, the paper pulled tight by a thin white piece of elastic. The implied innocence of this new mask puts Alex on edge and still he does not how to respond._

_"You were innocent, once," the boy comments, casually removing the paper mask and revealing a human face. "You were innocent and whole and then somehow, sliver by sliver, you lost that. With each new mask you added, a small part of you had to disappear to make room for. You've learned about that from your tutors: conservation of matter. And the more you changed the less of you that existed. And now all it will take is one tiny push." _

_As the child spoke, a mirror appeared in front of Alex, showing his face made pale by the odd light of the full moon._

_"One, tiny push, and everything will come crumbling down." And as he spoke, Alex watched his reflection's face fall off, only to be replaced by the demon mask, and the then a dragon, a hawk, a raven, a snake, and on and on until finally the paper child's mask, and then nothing. Beneath all the masks, there was no human face, merely a white template with the implication of a mouth, a nose, and eyes, lacking any distinguishing features. _

In the morning, all of the doubts Alex's nightmare produced seem easier to ignore and as he has done after all his recent nightmares, Alex pushes the thoughts from his mind.

**XXVIII**

"Agent Blunt," Alan Blunt's voice is as grating for Alex as ever, but rather than showing his annoyance he bows his head.

"Yes, Father."

"You have a new assignment. We have reason to believe that the SAS has been compromised somewhere within the Brecon Beacons training facility. Your task is to discover the leak and if we deem it too high of a risk eliminate it. Do you understand?"

Alex wants to answer truthfully, he is thirteen years old and being sent to the training camp of the SAS, the premier of the military, of course he does not understand. He will stand out, his entrance into the camp will be such an unprecedented anomaly that any undercover work will be more than twice as difficult. There is very little that could logically justify choosing him as the operative for this mission, but something in his father's tone, forces him to hold his tongue so instead of arguing he nods his head.

"As you will, Father. What is my cover story?" because a mission as attention grabbing as sending a minor into the armed services needs a pretty freaking convincing cover story.

"You may come up with whatever cover you deem necessary, however, there are no official resources at your disposal for the development of your cover."

Alex wants to protest, because this seems like yet another time when his father is risking the mission to punish Alex for some fault, imagined or real, that he will not discuss with his son. In the end, though, he keeps his silence because experience has taught him that at times like these no amount of logic will sway his father's decision and at least this time, the mission is unlikely to become life-threatening.

"As you will, Father. When does my mission begin?"

**XXIV**

Alex stands at attention before the sergeant, aware that the oversized military fatigues make him look younger than he is. He can understand the older man's resentment, here he is a child, being placed with grown men, soldiers who have trained hard to earn a spot at this camp. The sergeant's dislike for him is two-fold, on the one hand he is upset because a child of Alex's age should not have anything to do with the military, on the other hand, he is upset because Alex, the current face of MI6, thinks he can just waltz in here and demand a spot at this elite camp. As far as Alex can see, though, the man is right on both counts of his annoyance.

This empathy does nothing to make the situation any less uncomfortable.

"So, Agent Blunt…" the sergeant finally begins.

"Yes, sir."

"MI6 has assigned you here for an indeterminate amount of time, with an undisclosed mission, without providing you with any sort of cover story to explain why a ten year-old boy is playing soldier."

"That is correct on all points, but one, sir. MI6 has provided a cover: I am to pose as a nephew of one of the senior camp staff. The cover is simple, the none of the command structure needs to interact with me, merely to be heard implying that I was rescued me from a less than ideal home life and the implication that after such a rescue took place, my uncle was unsure what to do with me and has left me here until he can get leave to return and put my affairs in order."

"No one will believe that, the SAS is not a babysitting organization. No children are allowed"

"I am not a child; I am sixteen years old and plan on enlisting in two years' time when I am old enough."

"B.S. You look ten, maybe. You could never pass off as sixteen!"

"I was chronically malnourished as a child and am very small for my age, so long as I can keep up with the training program, it is unlikely I will be called on my age, perhaps ridiculed for my small stature, but I doubt that any of your soldiers would particularly like to contemplate that they are only slightly better than 'a ten year-old'. The cover should hold at least long enough for me to accomplish the mission MI6 has tasked me with."

Alex knows he is making the other man uncomfortable, has chosen his language to do so. Moralists, he has found, himself included, do not like seeing children who have had to grow up to fast, children who act and speak like adults before their time, and soldiers are, in Alex's experience, moralists. It is occasionally a convenient way to belay arguments.

"Very well, but know that just because you're from MI6 does not mean we're going to cut you any slack, _soldier_."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"While you are here you will serve under my command and I don't care who your Daddy is, who your _Uncle_ is, or who is backing you; while you are here you are _my_ soldier. Are. We. Clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Very well then, from now on you will be known as 'Cub' and be assigned to K-Unit in barracks block three room one."

"Yes, sir!"

**XXV**

The barracks, when Cub finally reaches them, are arranged in small pods, his team's dorm is the first room in the third pod and easily accessible from the main path. The room itself is nothing particularly fancy; the floor is made of poured cement, the bunks, desk and dresser of unfinished wood. The only odd thing in the room is a small camping bed shoved next to the team's dresser, which he assumes is intended for his use.

There are four real beds, Cub notes, meaning that he will merely be an unwelcome tagalong added to the team, rather than taking the place of a competent soldier. This is better than he has come to expect from this mission, but he doubts it will do much to make the team he assigned to accept him.

Casting of his grim thoughts, Cub places his backpack by the folded up bed he assumes will be his and stands at rest in the corner to wait for his team to arrive. It doesn't take long.

The four men seem to share an easy sort of camaraderie with each other, but as soon as they notice Cub standing in the room they fall silent. Sighing mentally, because he knows this is the start of what is going to be a very long mission, Cub salutes the men before standing at attention and waiting to be acknowledged.

"Who the frick are you, kid? And what are you doing here?" one of the men demands advancing on Cub. Cub mentally files away that his man is likely the group's leader as the rest of the men seem to defer to his actions.

"Sir, I am Cub, temporarily assigned to your unit, sir."

**AN: **sorry that it's taken so long to update, this summer's been pretty crazy for me between volunteering and working. Hopefully you guys enjoyed this chapter though.


	7. Chapter 7

**XXXI**

"Alex," Yassen's face is expressionless as always, but in his voice Alex can hear faint exasperation and something else that he cannot quite identify. "Why do you keep endangering your life like this? What possible justification can you have for the risks you take with yourself?"

"I risked nothing important; all of the parameters of the mission were fulfilled precisely."

"That is not the question I asked."

"I risked nothing important."

"Alex, you are mine –your life and body, if not your heart – your life _is_ important; if you are dead or maimed, you are of no use to me. Do you understand? From now on, on every mission, your first priority is to ensure that you come out alive."

"Understood," Alex acknowledges, and while both of them realize he has not agreed, Yassen forebears commenting, but the odd look of _something_ does not quite disappear from his face.

**XXXII**

Cub runs, keeping pace with the other four members of his team, but the exertion of doing so shows clearly on his face. He is a child still, barely 16 years old, and these are grown men; if his situation were any different he would never be expected to keep up with them, never feel the need to push himself to surpass them. But his situation is not different and he forces his focus back to reality. He needs all of his concentration to keep up with the men around him because the consequences of falling behind… He will not fall behind, he will never give them any excuse to send him back, especially not on his first day here.

By the time Wolf calls for them to stop, Cub's breathing is ragged and he feels slightly light-headed, although he does his best not to let his team catch onto his weakness. It is best, he has learned, to make sure they don't find any vulnerabilities, because when they do, they are merciless. Today, however, there is no hiding, and although he is rapidly regaining control of his breathing, he is not fast enough, not good enough for them.

"What's wrong Double-O-Nothing?" Wolf taunts. Of all the men in his unit, Wolf is by the far the most confrontational and it is no surprise when he continues, "Poor, little boy can't keep up with the real soldiers? You're pathetic, drop down and give me twenty!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Cub shouts, although his tired body resents the punishment, Cub cannot actually resent the man who ordered it. After all, he _is_ an unwanted addition, slowing the team down and Wolf has his own men to put first. Cub is too slow, too weak, too useless to be one of Wolf's soldiers and until that changes he _is_ nothing. But unlike Before, there is something he can do, a way he can change to make himself good enough and that knowledge gives him hope and makes it easy to ignore the protests of his body and the pettiness of his team's behavior.

**XXXIII**

_The child is back in his dreams again, frowning, with a look too serious for its young age. "We have a new mask," the disapproval is so blatant in the young child's voice that for a moment Alex almost feels compelled to defend himself. "I thought we spoke about this," he says, "I thought you _understood_. These masks are destroying you, suffocating you, every new one takes a little bit more and someday soon, that one last mask will take just that one little bit more than you can give and there will be nothing of you left!"_

_"Why do my affairs hold such a great concern for you?" Alex asks as the child pauses for breath, genuinely curious, but also trying to distance himself from the unsettling child, careful to keep his eyes from straying to the mirror behind it._

_"Why I care isn't important. What is important is that they have broken you, and forced you to break yourself and you don't even seem to care. What is important is that beneath all of your masks, you don't even know who you are anymore, that maybe you disappeared a long time ago and what you are now is just another mask."_

_Something in the boy's words connects with Alex, and he's not sure why, there are just words after all, but something in the other's accusations hurts him and suddenly he doesn't want to hear any more. "Stop. Please, Stop!" He doesn't actually expect his plea to affect the apparition in front of him and yet he is still somewhat surprised when it does not._

_"Do my words hurt, _Cub_? Would they have that sort of power if they were merely lies? Wake up and at least acknowledge the truth. Your eyes are shut together so tightly right now that you can't see the cliff you're walking toward and I'm yelling as loudly as I can to slow down, but you won't listen, you just keep walking closer and closer to the edge of the bluff and one day soon we're going to go over. You're going to kill us and you don't care!"_

_Alex turns to face the child, eyes narrowed in anger, because of all the things it could have said- "You're wrong! They did not break me, merely made me into something useful. I am a tool, nothing more, and if there is nothing when you pull all of the masks off of me, then there is nothing left to kill!"_

_"You don't mean that, you were never meant to be only a tool-"_

_"Stop pretending that you care, you don't understand anything! I am nothing and there isn't anything you, or anyone, can do to change that so stop trying to help me!"_

_"You don't mean this, your father is using you-"_

_"Of course my father uses me; I am his son, that is my purpose." _

_"And do you enjoy your purpose, little spy?"_

_Alex turns his back once more on the apparition, refusing to acknowledge its last point and slowly, as if acknowledging defeat, the world around him begins to fade._

**XXXIV**

Cub, Eagle will admit, is definitely not what he had been expecting when his team was informed that they would be playing glorified babysitters to a general's nephew. He had expected a whiny, incompetent, self-absorbed brat or some sort of super-hardcore, extra muscled, mini-general and he can now say with perfect certainty that Cub is neither of those. The kid is tiny to start out with, not wimpy small, but small, small. When he first saw the kid, Eagle would have sworn that Cub couldn't have been older than ten and even having trained with him for the past few days, Eagle still isn't sure he believes that the kid is actually 16.

Then there's also the fact that the kid seems incapable of getting angry. Before he actually arrived, Eagle had joked with the rest of the unit that the boy was being sent here was because he was actually a spy and somehow the idea had stuck. By the time the kid actually arrived, they'd already gotten used to calling him Double-O-Nothing and finding out he was supposed to be called Cub hasn't really changed anything, but the weird part is that no matter how often K-Unit mocks him or sabotages his efforts, Eagle has never seen Cub get angry. The kid just ignores it, like this sort of hazing is such a normal part of his life that he doesn't even notice it anymore. Not once in the four days that Eagle's been with the kid, has he heard a single complaint cross the boy's lips.

Then there's also the boy's incredible luck. From the day he arrived, it was pretty obvious, at least to Eagle, that the boy had had no previous training and in the following days it became obvious from the number of times he managed to get himself lost throughout the camp that he had no sense of direction, but somehow whenever K-Unit had played a nasty prank on him, that they were sure would make him late to Physical Training, he was able to miraculously guess the shortest path there. Then there was the time that he managed to piss off Puma, one of the brawnier men in the whole program, and through no martial skill, walk away with only a few bruises.

The strangest thing about the kid though, is that even though Eagle started out resenting him and hating how the boy's lack of skill slows their team down, after only four days with him, Eagle can't help but be impressed with the kid's effort and drive and attitude. In fact, Eagle, may actually like him. There's just something about the kid that draws people in, which is why, on the fifth night of knowing him, Eagle finds himself caring enough to walk over to the kid's cot and try to wake him from what is, by the sound of his sleep-talking, obviously a nightmare and why, on the fifth night of knowing him, Eagle begins to seriously question why the kid is here.

**XXXV**

By the time Cub wakes up on his sixth morning at Brecon Beacons, there is a dramatic change in the attitudes of the men in his unit. The first thing he notices upon waking at 4:30 am is that the rest of his unit is also awake, somewhat of a rarity and an inconvenient one as he had been hoping to take a shower before they woke up. The truly strange part, however, is that, for the first time since he began his training here, they acknowledge his presence, greeting him, as if they hadn't spent nearly a week trying to make him miserable enough to leave their unit.

The greatest oddity of the morning, though, comes on the way to the mess hall when Wolf casually walks over to him and says, "Hey, Dou-Cub, you remember on the first day when you asked if I'd be willing to help you learn a bit so you don't embarrass our unit too badly in combat training? Well I've given your request a bit of thought, and I decided that it seems like a good idea, I expect you to meet me behind the barracks every morning at 0330."

The whole morning seems somewhat surreal, the efforts to establish a camaraderie are such a stark contrast to the thinly veiled disdain the unit has been treating him for the past week, that Alex begins to wonder if this is not just another joke being played on him and if not, what has happened to so dramatically shift the K-Unit's perception of him and what the consequences of this shift will be. After a moment of thought, Cub smiles, "Yes, sir. Thank you Sir."

Wolf merely grunts, gaze on Cub as if searching for something and after a moment, Cub grows uncomfortable and looks away.

"Snake, Eagle, Fox, and I had a talk this morning and we decided perhaps we'd been a bit unfair to you kid, consider this your one chance to prove that you're worth our time."

Cub's smile grows, if possible wider and although he is somewhat suspicious of Wolf's story he merely replies, "Yes, sir!"

**AN:** So K-Unit has started to draw some conclusions about Alex and Alex is starting to crack even further… Hopefully you guys enjoyed the update and will **review** to let me know why, I know it sounds cheesy, but reading your reviews really inspires me to keep writing this story.


	8. Chapter 8

**XXXVI**

Alex turns to face Yassen, attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to keep his hands still because what he has to say is important and he is nervous, but he doesn't want Yassen to think that his opinion on this matter is weak or changeable. He doesn't want Yassen to think that _he_ is weak or changeable anymore, because he has finally made his mind up. For the first time, he is going to make his own choices and no matter what Yassen does, he won't change.

"Alex," and somehow the other man's even voice still comes as something of a surprise to Alex, because this is a monumental change and Yassen is standing there as if nothing is different as if things are the same as they were a year ago. Sensing Alex's hesitation, Yassen asks, "Is there something you need to discuss?" And that is the thing about Yassen, because although his voice is practically inflectionless, Alex has lived with him for a year and can tell that there is real concern in the other man's tone. For whatever reason, Yassen does care about him and that shouldn't matter to him, but it does.

Somehow, during the last year, Alex has started to depend on Yassen being there, on Yassen's support. He has promised his life to Yassen, and he knows that he can never leave the older man, but for the first time it occurs to him that Yassen's promise to never let him go goes both ways: he can never be kicked out. For once, that thought is almost comforting and he is struck by the irony that in less than two years, a man he has been raised to hate has been more of a father to him than Alan Blunt ever was during the previous 12.

**XXXVII**

"You don't understand, Wolf; you didn't hear his nightmares. The kid was arguing with someone and said, 'of course my father uses me; I am his son; that is my purpose.' That's pretty freaking hard to misinterpret," Eagle hisses.

"Do you have any hard proof though? Maybe the kid was talking about something else. I mean sexual abuse is a very serious thing to accuse his father of," Fox breaks in, trying to be the voice of reason.

"What else could he be talking about, Fox? Besides, haven't you noticed how Cub refuses to shower around anyone else, how he flinches when you get too close, and it explains why his uncle was so desperate to get him away from his father that he left him here even though the kid is obviously not even 16 years old."

Wolf shifts uncomfortably on his bunk. Eagle does have some pretty compelling evidence, but all of it is circumstantial and they could just be misreading it. If they aren't though, and unfortunately it really doesn't seem likely that they are, then for the past week they have been tormenting an abused child, a child who seems to view this camp, even with their petty abuse, as some sort of paradisiacal refuge.

Wolf really wishes that he could convince himself Eagle is wrong.

"If this is true, though," Snake begins speaking up for the first time in the conversation, what do we do about it?"

"We confront him, if he really was abused, he'll tell us and we can get on with things and figure out what to do next together, if he wasn't then we don't need to treat him any different," Wolf suggests gruffly.

"You know that won't work, Wolf. How many abused children ever just tell a stranger that they have been abuse, especially a stranger who for the past five days has been actively hostile to said child?"

"Eagle," Ben says, tone purposefully even, "That's not really helping. Wolf, I know you don't want to acknowledge that this may be real because how we've been treating him, especially given this new information, is inexcusable, but the kid deserves better than your denial."

"So that leaves us where?" asks Snake.

Eagle and Fox, look toward Wolf expectantly. "That leaves us where we treat Cub like a member of K-Unit. If he struggles, we help him. If he respects us we give him the respect we would each other. But the moment he starts making me think he's just some rich man's spoiled brat, we give up this whole abused child theory and treat him just like we have."

**XXXVIII**

The more Wolf notices Cub, the more things he finds that don't line up. The kid smiles and it never quite seems to reach his eyes, he is loud and outgoing whenever he thinks someone is watching, but on his own he is silent, like he's spent a lifetime hiding and can't quite kick the habit. He acts like a shadow of a person, a boy who grew up watching how other children act, but was never part of that world. Whenever Eagle cracks a joke, Cub looks around to see how the team reacts before he does himself and if he cannot tell he'll always assume that Eagle is serious, even if it means he has to do some ridiculous task. Much as he doesn't want to entertain the idea that Eagle was right and the kid is a sexual abuse victim, Wolf can't find much reason to doubt the theory.

At meals, Cub never complains about the food –no matter how awful the rest of the team finds it–eating everything in front of him, almost mechanically. When the time comes for lights out, Cub will sleep immediately, but his dreams are never easy which leaves Wolf wondering what is so wrong with the world around him that Cub views his nightmares as an escape.

The worst thing about Cub, though, is how pathetically confused he is whenever any of the team show him kindness, as if he is waiting for the other shoe to drop, trying to figure out what each member gets from treating him as if he were a human. The thing that kills Wolf is that when they were treating him like trash, Cub never complained, not because he thought it wouldn't do him any good or because he was afraid of the consequences, but because he considered their treatment of him to be normal, perhaps even a light price for being allowed to join their unit. No, that's wrong, the thing that kills Wolf the most about the situation is that hadn't noticed. Cub is a talented actor – and perhaps if Wolf had met him a couple years down the road after Cub has had time to perfect his mask, Cub would have been good enough to fool the older man – but Cub is still young and there are gaping holes in the happy façade that he projects, holes that Wolf should have been able to pick up on without Eagle's help. That lack of attention is what really kills Wolf, because how can he expect to protect his country when he can't even notice an injured child standing right next to him.

And so Wolf makes it his personal mission to save Cub because of all of the team, the boy came to him first when he asked for hand-to-hand lessons and well, Wolf knows what it's like to grow up in a broken family. While Cub deals with things very differently than Wolf ever had, beneath that cracked, smiling exterior, Wolf sees the same scared child he had been every time his father bothered coming back home.

Wolf is no easy task master when it comes to their morning hand-to-hand sessions, but Cub doesn't need easy, Cub needs to learn. And learn Cub does, the kid is a natural, picking up blocks and punches and kicks as if he were born knowing. Over the past few weeks, Wolf has been impressed again and again by the speed with which Cub is developing a sense a sense for when to attack, to feint, to dodge, and block. He's nowhere near Wolf's level, or even Snake's, but Wolf can't find it in him to fault the kid for his minor mistakes because when the Kid accomplishes some particularly clever combination, even if he doesn't land the hit, his smile actually reaches his eyes.

And so, two months after having met the kid, Wolf is beginning to think he may be having some success because even if they still haven't tried talking about anything weightier than the grueling training the team is undergoing together, Cub will occasionally join in their teasing – and when he puts his mind to it, the kid has some pretty witty commentary on their Commanding Officer. Even when the kid doesn't feel comfortable sharing K-Unit's easy camaraderie, he sits with the team and waits for them at meal times, which Wolf views as a major hurdle. In fact, if it wouldn't come across as altogether way too sentimental, Wolf might even say that he's grown attached to the kid, not nearly as much as Eagle or Snake, or Fox, but enough. And he thinks that perhaps, in his own way, the kid might have grown to care a bit about the rest of K-Unit as well.

So when Wolf mentions B-Unit's mission being compromised and the loss of Cougar, Bear, and Stag, he is more surprised than any of the team by the way the kid completely shuts down emotionally.

**XXXIV**

Two months into the mission, Alex thinks, is nearly an inexcusable length of time to find no answers. In the past, he has been on missions that have taken longer, but those sorts of missions generally are far more dangerous with a much more difficult end goal. The SAS mission is physically much more taxing than any of his previous jobs, but the actual difficulty of his task does not justify the excessive length of time he has spent here. Within the first month he had identified the three possible units that the information leak may have originated from and yet through the entirety of the second month he has hesitated to do his duty and complete the second half of the mission. At first he was able to justify it to himself: he needed to take things carefully, this was an SAS camp, if he didn't spend time with his team things would appear suspicious, and even that staying to brush up on his martial training will make him a more useful tool for MI6. Now, however, that he has narrowed the leak down to two men in a single unit, Alex is forced to acknowledge that the reason this mission drags on is his own reluctance to end it. Somehow, in the process of establishing his cover as Cub, Alex has grown to develop an inhibiting amount of sentiment.

The men of his team ought to mean nothing to him. They are merely another set of pawns, and mostly extraneous ones at that, in a fundamentally straightforward game. Yet somehow, a part of Alex is certain that they do in fact matter and that he wants to stay here, because these people care for him and that is important. Alex ignores that voice because it is not relevant to his mission and thus is unimportant, because he has wasted enough time here pretending to be a soldier when he is not, because perhaps his father was actually trying to help him remember what he was with this mission. No matter how much the part of Alex that created Cub wants to stay with these men, that is not who he is. He is a spy, a tool for his government. When he pretends to be something else, he is letting innocent people die, he is Alex Blunt and no matter what, he cannot forget that again.

If the pattern of the leaks continues, the informant will make contact with his handler the next night and Alex, who has delayed way too long, will be there. It no longer matters what his team thinks of his conspicuous disappearance because unlike his previous missions, so long as he can stop up the leak it is alright if his cover is blown. Although, of course, he would prefer if it remained intact because there is no logic in burning bridges that don't need to be.

Even so, he finds himself almost saddened by the thought of leaving the SAS Unit behind, and isn't that just a little bit pathetic all things considered.

**XXXV**

"Ahhh-!"

Wolf wakes up nearly immediately upon hearing Cub's strangled scream. The kid is plagued with nightmares nearly constantly, but something about tonight – or looking at the brightly glowing numbers on the team's alarm clock, this morning – is different.

"Cub, hey cub, wake up."

The kid shifts, coming awake so slowly compared to his normal half-a-second leap from dreams to reality. For a moment, Wolf worries that he'll have to try something else to wake the kid up, but after an annoyingly long time, Cub's eyes finally open on their own.

"Wolf? I don't feel so well."

Wolf isn't sure if he should be amused by the very juvenile expression or seriously concerned that the boy was feeling ill enough to use it.

"Hey, Cub, how are you feeling?"

"It hurts," the small boy moaned, and now Wolf was sure he was concerned. Cub never complained about injuries and if what he was feeling now was worse than the time he had to spar Mule, who could kick harder than his namesake, then the kid had to be in some pretty serious pain.

"What hurts, Cub? I need to know so we can take to you to the doctor."

"My stomach and my head."

"Ah, just hold in there for a minute, Cub," Wolf orders as he kneels by Snake's bed, trying to wake the sleeping medic, "Snake, wake up," Wolf hisses before giving up and yanking the pillow from under the sleeping man's head."

"The heck was that for?" demands Snake angrily, and at any other time Wolf would probably have been afraid of Snake's temper, but right now he is too focused on Cub to give it even a second thought.

"There's something wrong with Cub, bad enough that he's admitting to it. I think he needs to see the doctor."

Snake turns toward Cub, expression growing more concerned when the boy repeats his explanation.

After that things are a bit of a blur, mostly because Wolf hates hospitals, even the camp one, and isn't especially concerned with dealing, politely or otherwise, with the staff. Luckily for them both, Snake does not suffer from the same limitations and after what seems like an excessive amount of talking about things to Wolf, Cub is finally admitted.

The rest of the day seems to pass by unbearably slowly because Wolf still doesn't know what is wrong with Cub and when the day is finally over and he and the rest of the unit go to visit Cub, he is a little bit hurt by the cold reception the kid has for them. Rather than smiling in greeting like Cub has taken to doing, the boy frowns and asks what they are doing in a voice so carefully bland that Wolf is sorely tempted to ignore the hospital bed and hit him. Being the gentleman he is, though, Wolf settles for glaring at the kid, hoping that he'll get the message and stop acting like a jerk.

It seems to work because after a moment, Cub's shoulders slump and he sighs, "They're sending me away in the morning. It turns out what was wrong with me was appendicitis and they needed to get ahold of my medical records to make sure I wasn't allergic to any anesthetics. When they were getting them, they must have tripped some sort of alarm which caused the police and child services to get reacquainted with my case. Overall though, I'm pretty excited about going back," Cub smiles while saying this and Wolf knows he's lying, but for the life of him can't figure out why Cub would want to. "I've really enjoyed my time here with you guys, but it turns out that while I was here, my sister got my father to allow her to formally adopt me, so I'm pretty excited about that, but," and here his shoulders slump again, "I am going to really miss you guys. These past two months have been pretty great, but I'm kind of tired now..."

Wolf nods, more to show that he understands the kid's wish to be left alone, than as a sign he is buying the story Cub is selling him. There's something going on here and he's not sure what it is, but he'd bet anything he has that Cub is not going to some sort of happily-ever-after home and that the kid knows it. He was trying too hard to convince Wolf that he was just some entitled kid at the end there, which leaves the question of Why?

When Cub is completely gone the next morning, Wolf is not entirely surprised. He is, however, entirely pissed.

**A/N: So hopefully you enjoyed that enough to ****Review****. I wanted to focus a little more on K-Unit growing closer to Alex, but this was mostly a transitional chapter**


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